Our Life Story
by Rosemarie Alanna Ann Belikov
Summary: Rose and Dimitri are telling a interviewer about their life. It's pretty much like the books but All-Human. Some things will be different.
1. Chapter 1

"Explain this to me, would you?" An interviewer asks my husband and me.

"Explain what exactly?" He asks.

"How you fell in love. How you made things work out for you both. How did you mange to not let anyone find out about you too?" The man asks the two of us.

"I still don't know about this." My husband whispers to me.

"I know, but let's just try it." I whisper back. He lets out a small nod.

"Ok, we will, but I want that tape after." He says to the man; pointing at the camera that is filming us.

"Alright, know, please start from the beginning."

"Ok," I say. "It all started at the beginning of my senior year of high school. I was seventeen..."

* * *

**Six years earlier.**

I get stares and whistles from the boys who watch me walk through the halls on the first day of school. I pay them no attention as I walk to my locker. I open the new locker with my new combination and open the metal door. I set down my backpack and begin to remove my things. I place pictures up first. One is of me and my best friend, Lissa. The two of us are dressed up as faeries in the picture, it was Halloween. The next picture is one with me and my two other friends, Eddie and Mason. They are my BGFs. Best Guy Friends. In this picture the two of us are at Eddie's house for a barbeque. The three of us are making these weird expressions and I have my arms wrapped around their shoulders.

"Hathaway!"

I turn to my left and see the two men walking towards me. I smile and shove my backpack into the small locker. The two get to me and we all hug. We see each other a lot during the summer, but we haven't seen each other in a month because I went to Colorado with my mom. It was boring, humid, hot, and I hated it. I didn't even hang out with my mom. She was way to busy working. It's like she doesn't even care about me. It's a good thing I have my friends moms who treat me like their own. They showed me how a real, caring, loving mother treats her child.

"God I missed you guys." I say as we begin to walk to our first class of the day.

"We missed you, too." My ginger-haired friend says.

"How was Colorado?" Eddie asks.

"God I hated it, the town we were in was so boring. There was nothing to do. Thank God there was a computer at least, but my mom said I could only be on it for an hour a day."

"Your mom is insane."

"You can say that again." I say as we walk into class. The three of us sit down next to each other and talk about how that one month was. We stop when my fairy-like friend skips into the room.

"You cut your hair!" I say with a large smile. "You look like a blonde Alice Cullen."

"You read the Twilight Saga?" Eddie asks me.

"No, I watch the Twilight Saga." I correct. My friends laugh as Lissa sits down on the right side of me. Mason is on the left of me and Eddie is on the left side of him. The teacher walks into the classroom and takes attendance.

"Mason Ashford?"

"Here."

A few more students are called.

"Edison Castile." Eddie groans from her having used his full name.

"Here."

"Valissa Dragomir?" Lissa lets out a small sigh and then says here.

More names are called.

"Rosemarie Hathaway?" I've gotten used to being called Rose because my mother only calls me by that name.

"Here." I say as I run my hand through my long dark hair. I got my looks from my unknown father. He was just a little fling for my mother that led to me. I think she resents me. She has no right to though. It's her fault for not being more protected the night I was conceived. Like people say, never trust the guy to bring the protection.

Class begins and the four of us don't want detention the first day of school so we don't screw around like we usually would. But when I get to Stan's class, I'm defiantly going to mess around. It's like a right of passage for me to piss him off. If I get detention from him, I will be ok with it. After the bell rings we all head off to our next class.

The day is boring until I get to English class. When I walk inside I see a man standing by the black board, writing something out. He's new. He's Miss. Karps replacement. She went mental last year in during the middle of a class. My class. She wigged out and threatened to kiss herself right in front of us with a envelope cutter if the voices didn't stop. None of us knew what to do. We had no idea what voices she was talking about. When she wasn't looking someone left the room to get help. By the time they got here it was too late. She cut her wrists, but she didn't die. They called 911 and now she's in a mental institution. It was so bad; blood was everywhere, even on my heels. I was in the front row and she was standing right in front of me. All of the students who were in the class had one-on-one therapy with the schools consular.

I sit down in my seat and watch as the room fills in. Once the bell rings the man writes something on the board in cursive.

_Mr. Belikov_

He turns around and wraps his arms over his chest. Mr. Belikov walks around his desk and up to the first row of desks. For a few minutes he watches us. Wow, he's handsome, young too. He's fit, tall, and beautiful.

"Hello everyone." It's silent. "The polite thing to do is say hello back. Now, let's try this again. Hello everyone one." He says with a smile.

'Hello," everyone says back.

"If you don't already now, cannot see the board, or can't read, I am Mr. Belikov. I am your new English teacher, obviously. Now, I am going to take attendance. I would like you to say here and raise your hand so that I can learn your names faster."

He sits down at his desk and begins to take attendance.

"Mason Ashford?"

"Here." I look back and see Mason sitting in the seat behind me. I must have missed him walking in. I smile and he smiles back. My name is eventually called.

"Rosemarie Hathaway?"

"Here," I say as I raise my hand. Mr. Belikovs' eyes look towards me and I lower my hand. His gaze continues to linger on me and once he notices that it's been over a minute he grunts and looks back at the computer screen. I feel my cheeks heat up and look down at my desk. Attendance is now over. He walks to the front of his desk and sits down on the top.

"Ok, feel free to ask me any questions." Many hands go up. He begins to call on people.

"How old are you?"

"Twenty-four."

"Is this your first year of teaching?"

"No, well, yes in a way. I've been teaching, but until now I've always been a substitute. I actually subbed a gym class here a few years go. Um, yes?"

"Why does it rain?" I roll my eyes and look back to see who asked the question. No damn surprise, Jesse. One of the most annoying people at this school. Mr. Belikov smiles and answers.

"If a kid asks where rain comes from, I think a cute thing to tell him is "God is crying." And if he asks why God is crying, another cure thing to tell him is "Probably because of something you did." Every single person in the room laughs except for Jesse.

"Jack Handy." I murmur. Mr. Belikov heard me say something and looks towards me.

"What did you say?" He asks with curiosity.

"I said Jack Handy. He's the man who wrote Deep Thoughts. That's one of the quotes from the book."

"Why yes, yes it is. Have you read it?"

"Yeah, I read it last month."

"Did you enjoy it?"

"Yes actually, I didn't think I would because I found it in my moms' things. I had no idea what it was about because I just needed something to do. I normally don't read, but my mom made me go to this small little town in Colorado and it was the only thing to do."

* * *

**Back to present day**

"So that's how it started? She knew a quote that you said?"

"Well, that was part of it I guess." Dimitri says as he holds my hand.

"Alright, continue please, Mrs. Belikov. I am sorry for having cut you off."

"It's alright, now, after I said that..."


	2. Chapter 2

Questions went on. After the questioning was finished Dimitri told us to take out a piece of paper and write down something about ourselves. I put my name, date, and class period on the paper before writing down something about myself. The bell rings and everyone rises from there seats. We place the papers in the metal basket on his desk and then leave the classroom. Dimitri's' eyes were on me the whole time.

The next few periods are a blur to me until I get to Stans Class. I sit down some where in the middle of the room and begin thinking of witty come backs or things he could possibly throw at me. I lean back in my seat as he walks into the classroom. He sits down at his desk and his eyes, which were scanning the room, find me. A small, sinister smile moves onto his face and one moves onto mine.

"Well, well, well... I'm surprised you came back to school this year." He tells me. I raise both my eyebrows in question.

"Why would that be?" I ask him. Eddie looks at me; curious of what is about to happen. Stan rises from his desk and wraps his arms over his chest. He opens his mouth and out comes-

"Detention Rosemarie, on the first day?" The schools principle, Kirova, says as she stares at me. What Stan said made me very upset and I snapped at him. I was instantly sent given detention and sent to her office. I know that Stan is setting me up every time, but I can't help myself. I was made to be sarcastic and witty.

"It's not uncommon, why do you sound so shocked?" She stares at me for a moment and I see the corners of her pursed lips turned upwards. I normally just sit there while she talks to me about how I should stop this, but not this time. "He sets me up, I know he does, and it's my fault for falling for him every time, but it's who I am. A witty, sarcastic person who doesn't like to be pushed around. I can take mocking and things of the sort, but he is just plan harsh, and rude. And it seems like it's only to me. Principle Kirova, I'm a good kid, you know I am. I get good grades I participle in sports, I'm in clubs, I'm not a drinker or a smoker of anything like that. I just don't like how he treats me. He's verbal abuse, Principle Kirova."

She watches me for a moment and then tells me I am excused. She writes me a pass and I leave her office for my next class. At lunch time I watch Mr. Belikov looking around the cafeteria as students eat and talk. Lissa sits down next to me and Eddie and Mason follow.

"Aaron won't stop staring at me." Lissa says as she begins to eat her salad. I don't remove my eyes from Mr. Belikov. He looks towards my table and watches me, our eyes connect. His eyes are gorgeous. A fellow teacher walks over to him and begins to speak. Dimitri looks towards the teacher and I look down at my lunch.

"You got detention, right?" Lissa asks. I nod and take a bite of my sandwich. "He hates you so much."

"No shit," Mason says. "We've known he hated her since day one at this fucking school."

The rest of the day was fucking boring. We all decided not to hang-out after school because we have a lot of homework. When I get home my mom isn't there. She left a note for me saying that she'll be out of town for a few days. No surprise there.

That night I stayed in my room, watching TV and doing my homework. After I finished I made myself dinner and then went to bed. That morning I get ready for school and carpool with Lissa. My second period class is sex Ed. I'm shocked when I see that Mr. Belikov is the substitute for the day. I sit down in the front (the teacher sat me there) and then the bell rings. Mr. Belikov takes role and then tells us why he is teaching the class this period. Our teacher had to go to a doctor's appointment with her son and he would take the class over for this period only due to this being his free period. He then takes attendance.

"I am going to do something a little different in class today. Now, I am going to hand out these blindfolds." He says before staring to walk around the classroom with a box filled with blindfolds. He hands me a black blindfold. I wonder what's going to happen. "Now, put them on."

We all do as told. We hear him doing something.

"This isn't going to be a class where I talk to you about protection and things of the sort. I'm going to ask questions. None of you will know what your answers are to these questions, only me. I am going to ask a question and you are to raise your hand or keep it down. Nod if you understand."

I nod.

"This is where you can get things off your chest, "tell" things that you've never told anyone and no one else will know. If you feel uncomfortable about this you do not need to predicate. But please keep on your blindfolds for the respect of everyone else."

"Now," he says. "Who here has had sex?" I keep my hand down. It's silent for a moment and then he continues on.

"For those who have has sex, was it protected?" I keep my hand down due to not having had sex. "Alright, has anyone here ever worried about possibly being pregnant or having gotten a girl pregnant?"

My hand stays down. "Has anyone ever been called "slut", "whore", or other things of that nature?" I raise my hand.

"Mr. Belikov," someone says. I don't know who.

"Yes?" He asks.

"What is the point of this?"

"I want to see how things are at this school. How well you all are taught in this class. How you all are treated. This isn't going to really be a sex ed. class today, it's more then that. For those of you who are called those horrible names, have you ever had sex?"

My hand stays down.

"Who here has called someone those names?" My hand stays down.

"Alright, you may remove your blindfolds. Please pass them up to the front." Dimitri walks towards us and takes them from us. "Thank you for doing that. I will never tell anyone your answers. I promise you that. Now, what do you all think makes someone call someone a whore or slut? Answers?" He nods towards one student who answers.

"I've never done it, but I think people do it because they might be jealous of how a person looks or is. They might have never had sex, but still be called these things."

"Oh please!" Jesse says. "People call people slut and whore because they are!"

"How can you tell that someone has had sex?" Mr. Belikov asks.

"Because people tell us about have sex with people and doing shit like that." I raise my eyebrows at Jesses cursing. He turns white and begins to open his mouth to apologize.

"It's alright; you can curse in this classroom, with me. How do you know that the people aren't lying?" Jesse doesn't answer. "Exactly, you don't know if someone is lying or not. Rumors are a horrible thing."

"I feel like we're all about to burst into song like in Glee." Someone says. I smile.

"Yeah, it does feel like one of those moments." Dimitri says with a small smile. He then turns serious. "Lately people have been killing themselves because people call them these names. A woman in Atlanta hung herself because people were calling her slut, constantly. This fourteen year old was so badly harassed that she killed herself. Another girl killed herself by slitting her wrists because people were saying that she was pregnant, that she was a whore. Neither of these girls had sex, both were virgins. Those girls families were broken after, a child was taken from the world before their time because they were so badly bullied. Today I wanted to talk to you all about how badly this shit can hurt. It's not just girls either, many men are made-fun of because their gay or bi or something like that. It might not even be that, for men and woman bullying happens, it doesn't matter what type it is. It's all the same in the end. And I really hope that the end doesn't end because of suicide."


	3. Chapter 3

He's great when it comes to us teens, Dimitri is, I mean. He knows how to talk to us, how to treat us, how to connect with us. That's great. It's rare. Teachers try to get to know us better and try to understand us, but it almost never works. Maybe Dimitri understands more because he's younger. I watch him as he takes attendance. I say my name when it's time and he looks up at me. Our eyes connect and he quickly looks back at his computer. I take in a small breath and lean back in my seat. Meredith, she's a friend, but not a close one, is sitting to the left of me and while Mr. Belikov stands up from his desk and turns towards the black board, tosses me a note. I look up at her for a moment before reading the note.

_Mr. Belikov is so hot, isn't he? _

I write back. _Yeah, absolutely. _I toss it back to her after he drops his piece of chalk.

_Look at that ass! God. _

I smile and write back. _I know, but we should stop now, I don't want to get in _I have to stop writing because Mr. Belikov takes the note from me. I feel my face get hot he reads it. He looks up at us and then walks over to his desk. He puts the note into his desks drawer and then continues on with class. Meredith and I look at each other in embarrassment and then try to pay attention during class. Mr. Belikov didn't bring up the note.

In Stan's class he tried to break me. I didn't pay him any attention. But somehow he still managed to give me detention; I don't even know what I did. After school that day I went to basketball tryouts. For the past three years I've been in basketball. And all three years I was captain. I don't know if I'll get it this year, but there is a pretty good change I will. The night was the same as the day before. Boring and lonely. I decided to go in for my detention the next morning. I don't know which teacher will be there. I walk into the classroom and see Mr. Belikov is there. I watch him for a moment before walking over to the desks. I'm the only student here.

"Hello Rosemarie," he says.

"Hello Mr. Belikov." I say as I set down my backpack. For the first five minutes of detention I just sit there. I begin to pick at my nail polish. The black paint was already chipping. I should have brought my nail polish; I could have done that during this time.

"Rosemarie?"

"Yes?" I ask him as I look up at him.

"Do you have anything to do?"

"No," I answer. He nods and stands up. He tells me he will be right back. My thumb is now no longer colored. I sigh and begin to work on my index finger. Mr. Belikov walks into the room and sets down a book.

"Here, I know it looks long, but it's written in a form of poetry. It's a quick, good read."

"You've read a teen's book?" I ask as I pick up the thick book titled "Perfect".

"Yes, I'm a fan of Ellen Hopkins. Read it, it's good." He says before walking over to his desk. I look down at the book for a moment before opening the book to the first page. A half an hour later I'm leaned back in the desk, consumed in the book. I've never been into reading, so why am I now? Is it because Dimitri gave me the book to read or is it because it's a really good book? I don't know. The hour is over and I'm not finished yet. Dimitri says I can keep it.

"No, I can't do that."

"It's alright; I have another copy at home."

"Are you sure?" I ask him as I rise from the desk.

"Positive." He says as he walks over to me. I grab my backpack and sling it over my shoulder. Mr. Belikov places his hand onto my shoulder and our eyes meet. "Why did you get detention?"

"You don't already know?" He shakes his head.

"I don't know, Stan—Mr. Alto, just hates me. I don't know why. He just seems like he wants to drag me down, hurt me. I don't know why. I don't even know what I did to get my second hour. Which I will be serving tomorrow."

"I'll be there."

"You will?"

"Yes, would you like me to walk you to your first class?"

"That would be great." I say with a small smile. "Thank you."

Dimitri nods and we leave the classroom. As we walk to my homeroom Dimitri and I are quiet. When we get there Dimitri tells me that he hopes I have a great day.

"Thank you, Mr. Belikov, for walking with me here, and thank you for the book."

"Of course,"

* * *

**Present**

"I still have that book." I say. A whine fills the room and I turn my head to the left. "Sorry."

"It's fine." The interviewer says as I stand up. I walk over to the portable crib and reach inside. I pull my baby out of the crib and smile at her. She grips my hair as she cries.

"What do you need Ilena?" I ask mine and my husbands' baby. "Are you hungry? Yes, oh that's right. You're always hungry after you wake up from your nap." I walk back over to the couch and hand Ilena to Dimitri. I remove my jacket and begin to unbutton my shirt. "Do you care?"

He shakes his head. I unclasp my bra (it clasps in the front) and then take Ilena back from Dimitri. Our young child begins to drink and I notice that the interviewer is staring the other way.

"Sorry, we had to leave in a rush and I wasn't able to grab a bottle for her."

"It's alright," he says.

"It's getting late," Dimitri says. "After they finish I think we'll be heading home."

"Ok, will you arrive the same time tomorrow?"

"Yes," I answer. "We'll be back tomorrow, and most likely that day after that and the day after that. I told you it was a long story."

* * *

"Are we sure we want to do this?" Dimitri asks as we ride home.

"Yes, people want to know our story, we might as well tell it."

"I don't like that we've being filmed."

"Dimitri, its fine. If he posts the video or videos somewhere, we can sue him. We're filming this so that we can write a book about it, it will be easier to write when we have a tape of ourselves telling out story, I know we didn't really want to, but we might as well, right? Besides we're only doing this so that people will understand how this isn't wrong. God... I still can't believe people still care... that's why we need to do this."

"That's why you want to do it. I want to do this so that when Ilena, and that little boy inside you, will be able to understand how their parents fell in love and why it was "ok"."

"Then why are you asking if we want to do this or not?"

"Because we can easily do this at home. Get our own camera and tell our story. Then write our story out. And I do want to write about this, I do, it's just... why do we need an interviewer?"

I don't answer as I look out the cars window. Ilena makes a cute baby noise and I smile. Dimitri's hand finds mine and he presses his lips to the top of it. I look back at him.

"If you don't want to do this anymore, we don't have to." Dimitri stops the car at a red light and looks back at me.

"We'll do whatever you want; it will practically be the same either way. We might as well keep going."

Dimitri and I look back at Ilena after she lets out a small, playful scream. We look at each other and then back at the baby, well, her car seat. Her rattle hits the cars back windshield and I laugh as Dimitri shakes his head, he has a smile on his face.

"Our little wild child." He mumbles. "She's just like her mother."


End file.
